


Demons: A Negotiation

by Anonymous



Category: xxxHoLic, 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs
Genre: F/M, Smut, nonconsensual vouyerism, restraints (sort of), storytelling as edging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-19 16:45:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19136671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: They have a guest.He wasn't a happy one.





	Demons: A Negotiation

**Author's Note:**

> In the same vague timeline as [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19089484) sorry excuse for smut.
> 
> Don't think too much about it.

They were having sex when their guest arrived outside the door: an unscheduled but not unexpected interrogator. Leaving a trail of breadcrumb clues for an urgent deadline involving death tended to do that.

"He's alone," she sighed, closing her eyes as he moved within her, their steady rhythm rocking her body. " _Go deeper._ "

"He's also a god in your world," Fyodor murmured on the knee hooked over his shoulder in reminder, angling his hips just _so_ to make her gasp. With how the spirit had willingly suspended herself off the bed with her own webs, it was easier to devote more energy to pleasuring her. "Plus, he has a temper."

"And he has lust." The Jorogumo caught the disapproval in her human's gaze, and she laughed, fond and breathless, when his hand tightened on her hip. "No need for that, my Fyodor. He can watch, but not join."

Before he could even respond, the door opened with a languid flick of her wrist. Nakahara Chuuya was frozen, a dark flush coloring his features.

Welcome, young one, to the spider's domain.

"Besides, he cannot use his divinity." She stretched her arms above her, her flushed form in full display for their audience, long, golden hair slipping off her shoulders. "In that form, it's as good as sealed."

Fyodor merely quirked an eyebrow. Corruption was already a handful to deal with. Then again, given who she was, she would be more familiar with the full extent of Arahabaki's power.

"H- _hah!?_ " Chuuya seemed to have recalled himself, features now darkening in anger as he began to stride across the room. "Why you sick fucks -"

The rant was immediately cut off by a thick band of web covering his mouth. So were his movements with his new restraints, winding around limb and body.

"Tsk, tsk," the Jorogumo said, not even looking at him, completely taken as she was with Fyodor's calculating expression. Her smile, razor sharp, parted with a huff of icy air. This man was not her human's favorite toy, though is expressiveness and shame were entertaining. "Little boys should behave and wait until their betters finished."

Their audience struggled. All that accomplished was the accelerated loss of his strength.

"Snack time?" Fyodor inquired politely as he nudged her to sit up. She did with the help of her webs, silk wrapping to trap their waists, and they both moaned with how deep he slid in, with her pressed against the wall, both calves pressed to his shoulders, him taking a few moments to center himself before he pressed forward. "You just fed."

"And now we're in bed." The Jorogumo gasped in pleasure when he seized her hips. Oh, they were certainly doing this again with an audience, if the teeth on her delicate shoulder and the bony grip on her ass were anything to go by. "Th-that takes energy."

"More mine than yours." He pushed in with a shallow thrust, grinding his hips so his base would rub her mound. The Jorogumo had yet to beg whenever they coupled, but perhaps this was the day.

"Oh _yes,_ " she breathed instead, clearly not a reply to his words, and raked her nails down Fyodor's back. " _Right there._ "

"Speaking of energy," he said on her lips, "what of Arahabaki?"

Because now was the right time to have this conversation, in the middle of a good fuck while their potential victim was helplessly struggling on the floor.

The Jorougumo's eyes darkened in interest. "That'll cost you."

"A bargain can be arranged." He smiled as he pressed a kiss with teeth on her breast, and she clutched the back of his head. How his lanky dark hair stood out in the curl of her fingers. "There's an artifact you've been eyeing for a while now."

Her eyes flashed. "And it isn't yours -"

And her protest, silenced with a kiss and a plundering tongue.

"Information for information." Fyodor pushed in deep, slow and deliberate, and this new pace drove her wild with want, trembling like a leaf in the wind. "The _dirty work_ is still on you, my lady."

Inasmuch as harnessing Arahabaki was his.

The Jorougumo considered him with a half-lidded gaze. Her human smiled in a sickly fever dream, starved for the destruction he might cause, rivaled only by heady lust.

How cute. Always, always, ever at the verge of destroying himself with these high-risk gambles of his, spinning false ends and hatching plots to never get caught.

She moaned her assent and leaned in close to his ear, catching the lobe with her teeth, and wove a tale of destruction and betrayal between icy lusty breaths. How the old gods passed from living memory, far before the primordial sea birthed the land, until a time when spirits walked freely beside men. There was once a god who offered protection and might to those who worshiped him, and he was abandoned and forgotten when the world turned.

"How he slept beneath the waves like a lover scorned." The Jorougumo's giggle of remembrance ended in a gasp. "The depths of the sea boiled for centuries, his wrath staining the waters until the moonlight no longer shined through."

"And then," Fyodor said, "he awoke."

"A blight and curse on the land," the Jorougumo replied in ecstacy, her wrists straining in their ties as she rocked into him, craving contact. The heat in her veins sang with arousal, long overdue. "A sym - _ah!_ \- _sym_ bol of betrayal." 

The thrill was in listening, word for word as her sighs tickled his ear and her slick, tight walls pulsed around him; in understanding the true scale of change she imparted as he held both of them up, denying his own climax while he drew out her need to make her forget and stumble.

The thrill was in speaking, stringing meaning to sound to words as he took her; in keeping her story fresh through the haze clouding her mind as the heat in her core spread to her shaking limbs, and she clenched around him to claim what he was worth.

She was not done speaking when she came, though towards the end all she could call out was his name. Fyodor held her trembling form close and continued to thrust into her, his victory a smile pressed on her parted lips.

He'd no doubt their guest heard her tale in his mind, from crooning start to wanton climax.

Fyodor hummed and plotted to steal those memories from the shaking mess of the man-not-god at the foot of their bed. In a shell of mortality, he'd be so easy to break.


End file.
